


romance is a game of fools

by blackkat



Series: Harlequin Wars [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Harlequin, Humor, M/M, On the Run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25688731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: “Meeting a guy in a bar? What would yourhusbandsay?”Jango growls, shoving Myles hard. “Go watch the back, asshole. And I don’thavea husband.”
Relationships: Jango Fett/Quinlan Vos
Series: Harlequin Wars [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862806
Comments: 22
Kudos: 429
Collections: Star Wars Alternate Universes





	romance is a game of fools

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: An arranged marriage, and they both hate it. One runs away as a merc, the other hires a merc to get them away from their family. Neither one realize who the other is and fall in love anyway

“Meeting a guy in a bar? What would your _husband_ say?”

Jango growls, shoving Myles hard. “Go watch the back, asshole. And I don’t _have_ a husband.”

Myles is definitely smirking behind his helmet. “You don’t until Jaster catches up with you.”

Jango grimaces _deeply_ , because it’s more true than he wants it to be. Jaster's pissed that Jango left him high and dry with the marriage contract to their new ally flapping in the breeze, but like _hell_ Jango was going to marry some high-and-might Kiffar from the planet’s prissy ruling clan. He’d probably have ended up committing homicide within a month and destroyed the alliance anyway. This just saves him a few hundred headaches, even if being on the run from his own father is slightly demeaning.

“Go make yourself useful and make sure this bastard isn't about to have us jumped,” he tells Myles, who gives him a sarcastic salute and heads around the back of the cantina. There don’t seem to be any guards, and it doesn’t _feel_ like a trap, but Jango's seen deals that are too good to be true before and this one definitely has shades of that. A few hundred thousand credits for an escort seems like way too much to be anything straightforward.

Still, it’s potentially easy credits, and that’s reason enough to take a risk; Jango's running low, and if he wants to keep a step ahead of Jaster, he needs resources. With a grimace, he shoves open the door of the cantina and ducks in, casting a glance around the small building. It’s dark, mostly empty, but there's a figure in a dark cloak and deep hood sitting at the bar, right where Jango's new client is supposed to be. There's a drink in front of him, but it’s untouched, and Jango eyes it for a moment as he approaches. Caution, probably. That might be a good sign, but—

Potentially it’s also a very, very bad one.

“Heard you needed some help,” Jango says coolly, kicking out the stool one down from the client and slumping into it. He catches a brief glimpse of Myles in the shadows by the back door, keeping a lookout, and lets himself ease a little, turning most of his attention on the customer. He’s a big guy, broad-shouldered and clearly well-muscled, and here on Kiffu it’s not a surprise he’s a Kiffar. What _is_ a surprise is the deep gold of his clan markings, showing he’s part of the ruling Vos clan. If one of them is trying to hire a mercenary, Jango's betting it’s not just for an escort.

“Yeah, more or less,” the guy says, and flashes Jango a grin that shows white teeth. It’s more challenge than humor. “You the bounty hunter?”

“Mercenary,” Jango counters, but the guy just nods, like he expected that. A test, maybe. Just like the hand the guy holds out, clearly waiting.

Jango eyes it, thinks of what he knows about the Kiffar, and very deliberately keeps his hands on his blaster and his belt.

From the humor that sparks across the guy’s face, Jango passed his test, whatever it is. He drops his hand, and says, “You saw the request. Escort to Hutt space, good pay, keep it all under the radar. I don’t exist as soon as we leave Kiffu.”

“I can do that,” Jango drawls, looking him over. “Half pay up front, half when I deliver you. And you tell me here and now who you’re running from.”

There's a pause, and then the guy grimaces. He eases his hood back just enough to show his face, and says, “I'm Quinlan Vos. My aunt’s trying to shove me into an arranged marriage with some bastard warlord, and like hell I'm going to let her. But I don’t have contacts in Hutt space, and that’s the only place she can't reach.”

Vos clan, just like Jango thought. He eyes Quinlan for a moment, thinking of his own would-be husband from the same clan, the son of two of the top Guardians, some pampered prince with too much money, and wonders if he’d ever have the courage to take a stand like this. Life in Hutt space is a lot different from life in the ruling family.

Maybe it’s sentiment, but Jango very deliberately slides his hand off his blaster. “All right,” he says. “My ship’s in the port. Credits.”

Quinlan almost manages to hide the relief that flickers over his face, but it’s clear in the way he pulls the credit chip from up his sleeve and offers it to Jango. “Half now, half when we get there,” he says, and holds Jango's eyes as Jango's fingers close on the chip.

“You’ve got a deal,” Jango says, and—easy money. He’ll get Quinlan out of the Republic, get him away from the reach of whatever family member wants to sell him off into a diplomatic marriage, and wash his hands of the whole thing. Easy enough.

A bit of sympathy for the guy doesn’t make him _soft_ , and Jango knows a hell of a lot better than to let himself feel anything important for a client.


End file.
